


It's a bad life if you don't weaken

by Vimes



Category: Zombieland (2009)
Genre: F/M, PIV, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, columbus/reader unrequited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-11-24 10:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20906255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vimes/pseuds/Vimes
Summary: (ETA: for you hornballs out there, the fic is explicit as of chapter 7 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))“You know,” you said at last because saying anything, no matter how awful, was better than nothing. “When I pictured you poking around in my gash, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”Tallahassee turned a dumbfounded look on you and you practically giggled with nerves. He snorted, shook his head, grinning as if he couldn’t believe what his ears had passed on from you. “Guess that goes to show you should be careful what you wish for.”----Everyone knows dystopias are only good for one thing: love triangles.Columbus tries to win you over, Tallahassee tries to be a gentleman, you try to keep the drama to a minimum and all three of you fail. Slow burn, misunderstandings, longing glances and eventual smut between Reader and Tallahassee (because Columbus may be some people's idea of a snack but in the post apocalypse you'd need a full meal)





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set just about after Zombieland (2009) in an AU where you take Wichita's place, in some ways more than others.

The gang found you in the middle of the highway, standing over a body you’d just finished beating and you held on to the shovel a little tighter when their car slowed down in front of you. In the front seat you saw two men, both white, alert and armed and you stepped your legs apart and tensed for whatever you’d have to do next. It was a hot day. Your luggage was spilling out of the car you’d been driving in. The man by your feet lay face down - they didn’t need to know he hadn’t been infected.

This stand off seemed to stretch out in the heat and you held your breath. Then a kid, maybe a very young teenager, popped her head up in their backseat to see what the hold up was. She looked like kids should look, well fed, unimpressed by the world and happy to take up space. You relaxed and lowered the shovel.

The man riding shotgun smiled, put his gun down and exited the car with his hands up and a decidedly non threatening posture.

“Hey! Hi there. You, uh... all by yourself out here?”

You looked down and stepped away from the body. “That’s not the sort of thing you should ask a woman...”

“Right. Sorry. Maybe we should start with introducing ourselves, make everything a little more... normal. Less accidental threats.”

The other man was narrowing his eyes and watching his partner. The kid was leaning over his shoulder to do the same. His daughter? They looked normal enough but that had never counted for anything. Still, their car trumped yours by actually working...

“Sure.” You walked over slowly, passed the handle of your shovel to your left hand and stretched out your right. “I’m-“

“Oh! No names. It’s, ah, sort of a rule we have. No real names. I’m Columbus, that hard ass there is Tallahassee and the lady is Little Rock.”

“Huh.” You nodded. “Is that city of origin? Destination?”

“Destination! Yeah. Well, sort of both, in my case.” Columbus laughed. “Wow, yeah. You’re smart. That’s nice.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you offered him your hand again and introduced yourself.


	2. 2

Tallahassee hated the way Columbus was always looking at you. Always glancing, staring, eyeing, looking and pretending not to look, ogling... When you two were together, Columbus played it cool, or at least what he thought was cool, and barely had the stones to make eye contact for more than a second. When you had your back turned or were otherwise engaged, Columbus saw his chance to just sit there like a drooling moron, staring at you as if the sun shone out of your backside.

And Tallahassee hated the way Columbus talked to you. He’d thought Columbus was a squeaky, jumpy little thing back when it was just the two of them but around you he couldn’t get two coherent words to stick together. It was all um-ing and ah-ing, stuttering, mumbling, clearing his throat, nervous laughter, changing his mind halfway through a comment and back pedalling awkwardly to say something else. And the constant, just constant agreeing with everything you said. All your favorites were his favorites. All your opinions were his opinions. Every word out of your mouth was the cleverest, funniest shit Columbus had ever heard. The only times it didn’t push Tallahassee just another few inches towards the edge of his limits were - and thankfully, this happened pretty often - when Columbus mistook your jokes for sincere statements and vice versa. Then it was Tallahassee’s turn to laugh.

The only thing worse than having to listen to Columbus talk to you was having to listen to Columbus talk about you. The boy did not know when to quit.

“She’s just so... smart. It’s like she gets me.” “Which shirt do you think is better, blue or plaid? ...she likes blue, right?” “I really sounded like a jerk back there, didn’t I. Do you think I sounded like a jerk? God, I was such a jerk. Why can’t I just learn to shut up.” I don’t know, kid - I’ve been asking myself the same question for a long time. “Does she ever... you know. Mention me?”

Tallahassee had pretended to hate Columbus ever since they first met. It didn’t do to let people get too close in this world, especially now, and the kid was probably so used to being mocked it wouldn’t hurt him much. Anything to stop him turning Tallahassee into some sort of father figure. But lately, acting like he hated his guts was less and less of a stretch.

The two of you, you and and Columbus, were young. He didn’t know how young you were because that’s not the sort of thing you ask a lady, and Columbus had the hunched frame of a geriatric and the common sense of a five year old and that balanced out to just about his age in years, which was definitely closer to yours than yours was to Tallahassee’s. He’d been no genius in school, but that kind of math was not beyond him.

Maybe Columbus had a certain charm. Maybe you were the type of woman who wanted to be treated like a princess - maybe the ass kissing, worshipping the ground you walked on approach would work for you. It’s not like beggars could be choosers. The two of you were young, and bored, and scared, and stuck together day in and day out. It was like high school all over again, including the bit were you thought you were the only two smart people in a crowd of smelly, evil, braindead shit heads with a pack mentality. Probably any day now you’d give in to the inevitable and start fucking like rabbits. The day that happened, the day Tallahassee had to walk in on that, well... that’s the day this little family fell apart, one way or another.

He knew he had no right to be so pissy about this. Oh, he knew it. He shouldn’t even be thinking about you that way and he’d done the best he could, he’d held out. Looked you square in the eye, not letting his gaze drift anywhere else except once or twice when you wouldn’t spot it - just out of curiosity, of course. Nothing wrong with a man admitting to himself that he knew what a beautiful woman looked like. But he’d been as respectful as he ever was with anyone, hadn’t flirted, hadn’t so much as tested the waters. Columbus had been in love from the moment you’d been introduced and Tallahassee hadn’t thought much of that, apart from being struck yet again by just how predictable some people were.

But then Tallahassee had pulled you in for a hug once after a particularly close call because he could see it was either that or watch you fall apart. You’d pressed yourself against him and he hadn’t even minded getting zombie blood all over his best jacket, he’d felt you shake, he’d felt your heart beating so hard and he’d made the mistake of holding you a moment too long.

You’d rested your head on his shoulder while you slept, with your hair tickling his neck and he’d been dumb enough to take a deep breath in. You’d joked and made him laugh, and Tallahassee had tried to return the favor over and over until he succeeded and he knew once was not enough, he had to hear that sound again.

You’d gone for a swim, you and the others had stripped down and run into a river and he’d elected to stand guard by the camp because he wouldn’t think about you that way and if he saw you in the water, droplets trickling down your belly, whatever clothes you still wore slowly soaking and sticking even closer to your skin, he would think of you that way. He’d reached down and ran his hand over the t-shirt you’d thrown on the grass and... Jesus, it had been such a long time. Just your scent on it and your warmth clinging to it had made him hard.

During that whole time, Columbus had gotten closer to you. He was always hovering around you and if you ever wanted or needed anything, he materialised at your side, ready to bend over backwards to please you. No need for Tallahassee to crowd you even more, even if he might have better ideas of how to set things right. One such great idea would be for Columbus to leave you the fuck alone every now and again - not so that he could swoop in in his stead, but so you could get a minute to think, breathe, work shit out in your own time. But Columbus never took his advice on anything. Of course that included how to behave around women.

Tallahassee heard the two of you whispering together sometimes when you thought he was asleep. Sometimes there was a giggle and he longed for ear plugs or maybe a shot to the head. It never lasted long, you went to bed soon after he did because Columbus, ever chivalrous, always elected to take the first watch.

Sometimes it was cold out. Sometimes you edged a little closer to Tallahassee and he would pull his own blankets to cover you, never saying a word.

After that happened the second time, he started sleeping with his boots on to make up for the cold. It was sensible, anyways. You never knew when you’d need to run for your life.

After that happened the fifth time, Columbus accidentally kicked Tallahassee’s cup of coffee into the fire the next morning, and Tallahassee made sure to be a little extra curt with you so no one would get the wrong idea.

No, he’d bowed out without ever getting into the fight. Because you were so much younger and this group was fraught enough and probably if he did fuck you the shine would come off and you’d be on his case, bitching about everything he did non stop, expecting him to turn into a different person. And, well... getting rejected by a woman didn’t sting much, but it was a little different when she might be the last woman on earth. And when her smile was that pretty. He was well out of it.

But he still hated how Columbus looked at you. It made his grip tighten on his rifle, it made his jaw work until his teeth ached, it made him reach for another drink and wish he’d never picked up either of you. It wasn’t helped by how whiny the kid had gotten and how Tallahassee had to find endless requests for moisturiser and kitchen towels on his shopping lists in that anal retentive writing, as if Tallahassee would believe he’d decided to develop a skin care routine and start helping out with the cooking.

It wasn’t helped by your look of surprise when he knocked on your door, on the days when you had a door, and stepped in to be greeted by an “oh! I thought you were Columbus”.

The four of you had been traveling together for a good few weeks now and it felt like years. Columbus still kept track of the dates so he could inform him exactly how long it’d been but Tallahassee had started hearing carnival music playing in his head whenever the kid opened his mouth these days.

The adults took turns driving and keeping an eye on Little Rock. You drove, raided houses and shops, found places to sleep on your way either indoors or out. You’d been going for so long, Tallahassee wasn’t sure any of you still remembered why you were heading where you were heading but it kept you all busy and that could only be a good thing. He definitely needed the distractions, because about a week ago the dreams had started.

The first time, Tallahassee was resting his feet on the dashboard and he could have sworn he’d only shut his eyes for a second. Then he was in a bar, back in the real world, with live music playing and you standing by his side, with your arm brushing against his... there was the usual dream bullshit with the setting changing moment to moment and weird people and old friends coming in and out, even the Showbiz Pizza bear made an appearance at one point.

But he remembered little of all that because eventually his subconscious threw his bone a bone and somehow he was on top of you in his bed back home. You were crying out his name, his real name, and he was tearing off your dress... you were pawing at his jeans, you were so eager, your breasts looked just like he’d pictured them (obviously - his mind had nothing else to work with) and he leaned in and kissed them, sucked on them, making you squeal and tense and shiver. You finally got his dick free and pulled him down and into you and he fucked you, held you down and fucked you deep and hard, giving you everything he’d got. That look on your pretty face, tensing and needy and shining with sweat was the most gorgeous thing he’d seen and in the heat of the moment he pressed his nose to your ear and told you just how badly he’d wanted you, what he’d do to keep you...

Then a bump in the road jolted him awake and the shock of going from that to this and his utter panic made him shout out. After the first reaction to this no one kept staring at him funny, so at least he hadn’t been talking in his sleep. All he could do was drop his hat into his lap, complain about his back and insist you spent the next night camping instead of driving. He would not risk falling asleep in the car again.

The next time was a few nights later and he woke up panting, sweating and with his dick as hard as iron, twitching and aching on his stomach. Like he was a fucking teenager again. Thank fuck he’d scored you all some camping gear and tents - it meant that at least this time he could sort himself out. Tallahassee didn’t care who heard his sleeping bag rustling, he slipped both hands in there, pulled off a sock and pictured you spread eagled on the hood of his truck, then pressed up against the wall in a shower, then face down in the dirt with his handprints on your ass... it did not take him long before he came so hard he thought he’d ruined his back for real this time.

After the third dream, Tallahassee stooped lower than he’d ever stooped before - he followed Columbus’ example by helping himself to a super value pack of wet wipes and just plain quit hiding the fact that he was sneaking off to jerk off. You made the mistake of teasing him for it once and he cut back with “you should try it sometime, sweet cheeks - might help you relax, might make you a bit less of a buzzkill.”

It took, at least for a while. You left him alone, grew a little more quiet, stopped reaching over him for the salt and directed your jokes at the others. Sometimes Tallahassee turned his head and could swear he caught you watching him with an expression he couldn’t read, but you looked away each time. He’d really thought it’d help if he spent less time with you so close but all it did was make him miss you bothering him and even more jealous of Columbus’ familiarity. Short of bailing altogether or by some miracle getting to have you, at least once, Tallahassee saw no way out of this. Something had to give.


	3. 3

Your initial suspicion dissipated quicker than you’d expected, because they were, by and large, normal, or at the very least nice. By their constant mutual bickering and teasing, you’d thought they were related at first but no, they were a family only in the sense that all people were family once the chips were far enough down.

Tallahassee farted in the car and laughed as if he’d single handedly reinvented comedy. Columbus corrected people’s grammar, kept a diary and seemed uneasy in his own skin. Little Rock rolled her eyes at everyone and saw more than either of the other two. You felt for her - twelve had already been awful before the world ended.

Even though she was edging towards tween as if she couldn’t wait for more pimples, Little Rock was the easiest to get to know and get along with, especially if you didn’t lean into the big sister act too strongly. She was wonderfully relaxed and quickly sorted out your reading list, music taste and general knowledge with that absolute certainty that rarely survives past puberty. Not least, she gave some pretty good advice on marksmanship.

Columbus talked a lot, too. At first he mostly talked to the other two, undeterred by their annoyance, and portioned out attempts to get to know you into manageable chunks, a bit of movie trivia here, some small talk there. Whenever he found out you already knew something he knew, he was shocked and it would have been irritating if he hadn’t also been so utterly delighted. It seemed he was determined to like you, and it’s hard not to like someone who’s convinced you’re worth liking.

Tallahassee... Tallahassee had two moods - he was either gleefully coarse and jovial, violently happy and happy to be violent, or he brooded. And since you weren’t spoiled for choice, it didn’t take you long to notice that he looked good when he was happy. He had a mean, sleazy smile and his giddiness was infectious. His face was chiseled, oddly chiseled maybe, but still chiseled. His clothes were terrible and his hair was thinning but it didn’t bother you for long, if anything his sense of fashion was just another good reason to wish he’d strip down now and then and let his chest finish what his neck had started.

Tallahassee looked good brooding, too. His jaw jutted out even further, his eyebrows lowered and his clever eyes glowered at the world, sharp and quiet. He spread his legs out even wider to extend his personal space, gripped the wheel when he was driving until the veins running down his strong arms stood out thick and coiled like snakes. He’d snap at people then, so you soon stopped trying to get him out of his moods and just watched him and enjoyed the show. The longer you traveled with them, the more Tallahassee brooded and you wondered what was getting worse. Columbus hinted at a tragic past, and you agreed that you should find out the truth about it from the man himself or not at all.

Tallahassee liked a lot of things in life still, good music, good food, drink and weed, his dumb hat, being argumentative with everyone about everything and beating, shooting or hacking at anything that’d break apart loudly enough. Watching him go to work on a zombie with single minded passion, all fit and smug and eager, made you look at death in a whole new light. But unlike the other two, he was not eager to have you along. Little Rock and Columbus insisted to you that he started out that way with everyone. Then a few weeks went by and they stopped saying it, because Tallahassee didn’t seem to be getting any more comfortable.

Sometimes the two of you were alone together or the only ones still awake and you got on well, you teased him a little and he laughed and graciously let it pass, he asked you about yourself and listened carefully to your responses. He seemed willing to help when you needed it, wordlessly passed you pen and paper when he was preparing for another raid, didn’t stare daggers at you when you took a swig from one of his many bottles. Once he asked you to help keep him awake while he was driving the truck, and you woke up in the passenger seat at dawn with his jacket blanketing you and he only called you selfish and unreliable once or twice the next day. The jacket had smelled nice. It was a shame he took it back so soon.

All of this should have reassured you that Tallahassee at least accepted that you were a part of this now, but still he mocked you less than he mocked the others, surprised everyone by opting for bed instead of hogging the remote when you finally found a house with a generator and a working dvd player. He was uncomfortable and you guessed he missed the good old days when it’d only been the three of them. Maybe he simply hated women in every other setting than kitchens and bedrooms - there were plenty of men like that, after all, and he was definitely an old school, salt of the earth, working-with-his-hands type sexist who groaned whenever you admitted to liking anything feminine and left the laundry to you as if it was a matter of course. Combining water, detergent and dirty clothes was too complicated for him, apparently.

When you couldn’t stand it any more, you decided you would ask him about it. Once the time was right.


	4. 4

A jolt of movement woke you up and your startled brain tried to compensate for its confusion by running through a few scattered facts that you could cling to. Like your name and age, and that you were alive, and that you weren’t sure if it was still worth the effort, and that you felt absolutely sick to your stomach. Unlike the rest of your new motley crew, you had a good reason to keep track of, if not dates, then at least the number of days crawling past, so you also knew you’d been traveling in their company for at least two weeks.   
But you didn’t know where you were and you couldn't remember why you'd been unconscious. When you tried to sit up to check whether you needed to run or fight, your head forced you back down by giving your brain a good, hard squeeze.

“Aahh!” You would have complained more but somehow you couldn’t muster up the strength to form words. Tallahassee came into view above you. Things were real bad when that was the most reassuring thing you could have hoped for.

“Don’t move,” he said, too late.

“What...”

“You took a pretty bad tumble. We’re safe for now, just holed up in here until the other two bring the car over.” He was sitting by your side with his gun resting by his chair, breathing hard, sweat glittering on his forehead. The movement you’d felt must have been him laying you down... where? By gingerly running your hands down your sides you found you were propped up on some old blankets on top of wooden crates. Tallahassee must have been stuck for choices because it was not a comfortable surface.

Now he got up again, secured the door and picked up a first aid kit on his way over to his seat.

Boxes and debris took up most of the small room and the only light came from two small, dingy windows high on the wall and a flash light pointed towards the ceiling - it looked like the back rooms of shops everywhere, which was strange because the last thing you could remember was... running from a horde and finding yourself trapped against a fence cutting off the alley.

The wire at the top of the fence had been torn. As soon as that image entered your head, the sharp, hot pain from your leg made itself known and you squealed and drew your knee up as if you could protect yourself against it by shielding the area.

“Was wondering when you’d notice that,” Tallahassee said unsympathetically and pushed you gently down onto your back, not before you’d seen the gash running up from your knee and the blood drying into your jeans. “Gimme a minute to recover and we’ll get you cleaned up. You’re heavier than you look.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined and saw the light begin to fracture and spread from tears.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Tallahassee drew his chair closer and leaned towards you, squeezed your shoulder, put his knuckles to your jaw to make you look at him. “Shh. You’re gonna be alright, come on now. Need some water?”

You reached out to take the proffered bottle but you shook so violently that he sighed and very gently slipped a warm, wide hand under your neck and helped you sit up to drink. His expression had softened now and that made it even harder for you to keep it together. When you’d finished, he poured some of the water onto his hands to get the worst of the red off of them, pulled the first aid kit onto his lap and zipped it open.

“Alright then. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

He picked up the flash light and turned it on your leg and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to see what he saw. With all that dried blood and fabric it was hard to tell how bad it was, but Tallahassee didn’t seem worried. The pain was intense but after the moment of surprise, it was beginning to be manageable. Was that a good sign? Or were you going numb?

“It ain’t deep but you’ll definitely need stitches...” He put a hand on your leg to pull the cloth a little out of the way and no, you weren’t numb because his touch instantly made you tense and grow hot. Tallahassee must have taken your sharp breath as a complaint, because he shot you an apologetic look. “Sorry, darlin. I’m sure I’m the last person you’d pick to play doctor, but it has to be done.”

After rummaging, he got out a pair of scissors and now the heat was climbing up your chest towards your face. He spotted your discomfort.

“Promise I won’t look more’n I have to.” As careful as he was, it still hurt like hell when he pulled the fabric away from your skin and slipped in one of the blades to start cutting. You licked your lips. If he was going to have enough room to work, you’d end up wearing something very similar to daisy dukes on that one side.

“Oh, it’s fine... you deserve some perks for getting me out of there.”

“Sweetheart...” Tallahassee chuckled. “I was just lying about that to make you feel better.”

“Right. Silly of me to expect anything else.”

If he was trying to distract you from the pain, it was definitely working - now you could add BO, pose and choice of underwear to your list of urgent worries.

His work was awkward going, especially when you had to spread your legs to give him room and try to make it look casual, but he quickly had at least the front of the pants leg cut free and peeled off of you, careful not to worry the cut.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Tallahassee looked miffed. “Course I do. You think I run crying to the nurse over every little scrape?”

How the hell should you know? He never talked about his life before all of this. Ten to one but he’d been an insecure office worker who’d seen the end of the world as the perfect opportunity to reinvent himself... but then that wouldn’t inspire much confidence in his surgical skills and no one else was queuing up behind him. Besides, you liked your romantic images of him, alligator wrestling, glassing bikers, chopping wood with his shirt off and whatever else it was that bad ass rednecks got up to.

You watched him as he did his best to wash his hands, pulled on some gloves, lined up his tools and patted his pockets for his flask. Before he could waste all of it on your leg you snatched it from him and took a swig. Vodka. He must be getting desperate.

“I’ll overlook that transgression, but only this once.”

With you sitting up and pointing the flash light as steadily as you could, Tallahassee cleaned the cut, first with more water, then with liquor and then, when you’d stopped complaining, with disinfectant from a nearly empty bottle. He must have noticed how you stopped squirming when he rested a hand on your bare leg and you could only guess at how he interpreted this. It was hot in here even though by now the blankets and the remains of your pants were soaking with water and sweat. When you shut your eyes you could still feel how near he was and the competing agonies of the pain and of wanting him even closer were neck and neck.

“There’s no dirt or fabric in there that I can see... better to stitch it up now and hope we can find some antibiotics than try to get it perfect later.”

“Is it going to scar?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Good.”

Tallahassee peered up from threading the needle, questioning this. You licked your lips and pressed on, determined to have anything else to think about apart from what was about to happen. “I mean, it’s officially the post apocalypse. I was starting to worry I wouldn’t blend in without some scars.”

“Quit talking like a damned geek. You sound like Columbus.”

“Well, he doesn’t exactly look the part, either.”

“He looks like an accountant fucked a ball of yarn.”

You laughed and Tallahassee held onto your leg tighter and pushed the needle in. You’d been gearing up for this. All you did was tense and hiss and keep your curses to yourself. The impressed-despite-himself look he shot you was all the reward you needed and that strengthened your resolve when he pressed on.

“That’s too mean,” you replied once you were sure your voice would come out steady-ish.

“By all means, chalk it up to jealousy of his youthful good looks if it makes you feel better.”

“Why would you be jealous of that?” You were trembling. Because of blood loss and shock and pain. “You’ve got your own.” No other reason.

Now it was his turn to laugh and he looked smug and preening, if not convinced. Preening suited him. “What can I say? Clean living and a clean conscience.”

“Fine then, keep your secrets.”

Silence crept back in and he focused on his task. The prick of the needle hurt, but it was the sickening feel and sound of the flesh being basically skewered onto it and then tugged along weirdly by the thread that was really unsettling. The mood in the room was heavy and tense and Tallahassee frowned even deeper each time he had to inch his hands a little higher.

“You know,” you said at last because saying anything, no matter how awful, was better than nothing. “When I pictured you poking around in my gash, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Tallahassee turned a dumbfounded look on you and you practically giggled with nerves. He snorted, shook his head, grinning as if he couldn’t believe what his ears had passed on from you. “Terrible. You’re starting to get worse than me.”

“It had to be said,” you lied.

“Well.” Tallahassee took this opportunity to get liberal with the disinfectant, maybe in the hopes that the stinging would shut you up. “Guess that goes to show you should be careful what you wish for.”

He thought you were joking, not just because you were joking but because for the first time you were actually straight up hitting on him instead of stealing glances here and there and hoping he’d press the issue himself. Of course, he had reason not to believe you - you were delirious and lost and trying not to think about how close you’d come to dying.

Those excuses made excellent shields for you to tell him what you thought and still play it all off as nonsense springing from the heat of the moment. Still, the tension built and now the awkward question wasn’t something only you had to wrestle with. He looked at you less but when he did, his eyes were quick and sharp with meaning and uncertainty.

You had run out things to say because the stitches climbed with agonising slowness and the first manic rush of adrenaline was fading fast. If he wanted to break the silence, it was definitely his turn and a few sly glances from him finally convinced him that the ball was in his court. “By rights, it really ought to be the other way around.”

“You lying on your back?”

“Well, yeah. With my shirt off, all heroic-like, and you fussing over me.”

“Oh, you’d love that.”

“Seems more in keeping with your feminine nature.”

That was bait, and you ignored it. “Are you saying I’d have to injure you to get your shirt off? Because I might.”

Perhaps Tallahassee hadn’t picked this topic as an invitation for you to keep flirting, but he didn’t look at all as if he minded. This time his smile bordered on predatory. “Darlin’, all you have to do is ask.” When his voice dropped low like that it became a low, rich rumble, difficult to handle even when you were at your best.

Now you felt faint, and you sighed and shook so hard that he could see it. Whatever reaction he’d expected, that hadn’t been it. Tallahassee’s grin faded, slowly replaced by something dark and hungry, his body held still in a way that suggested it took some considerable willpower for him to keep himself in check. But the uncertainty hadn’t left. He broke eye contact, just a moment too late to leave any doubt of what he’d been thinking, swallowed and brought his shield back up. You had pushed him as far as you dared. Whatever held him back was beyond you, especially now, and everything else was crashing.

Tallahassee dispelled the mood in the room with casual body language and all business attitude. He kept working, ignored your shallow, quick breathing and your fingernails digging into his shoulder for support and finished sewing after what felt like a life time.

The rest was easy. He cleaned the cut one last time, neatly covered it with squares of compress and lifted up your knee so he could wrap it all in a tight bandage. By now you shook uncontrollably, your limbs felt cold and your skin clammy and blocked. He drew you close to help you test your leg and you almost wished you hadn’t teased him so that he could hold you as a friend and think nothing of it. He’d held you before. His gruff manners now suggested he wouldn’t do that again.

You were so tired now, your head spun when you moved, the pain was hot and crawling, less urgent but more difficult to ignore. It had all gone wrong. Familiar voices drew near beyond the door and Tallahassee wouldn’t risk tenderness with an audience; he looked down at you with an impersonal, encouraging smile, took some of your weight and steadied you with his arm around you without it ever feeling as if he’d come any closer.

“In here,” he called out and helped you hop and shuffle your way towards freedom. Whatever this moment had been, it was over and when the door swung open and Columbus stretched out his arms to catch you, Tallahassee killed it for good by pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and looking grim and satisfied to find you had a temperature.

The light and noise past that left you delirious. By the time you reached the truck they’d parked right outside the shop’s front doors you’d cried yourself to sleep without a sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3


	5. 5

You had found a house. You’d found plenty of houses along the way, but this one looked especially promising with its two stories, a tall foundation that left the front door as the only entrance you’d need to guard, wide fields spreading out in every direction to lay bare anyone, dead or alive, who might try to sneak up on you. There were old tire marks in the soil running towards and away from the building, the latest set belonging to a car parked awkwardly against a wall with leaves and debris scattered on the roof - no one living was staying here.

Tallahassee tried to kick in the door and made a wonderful scene when it swung open without any effort, leaving him to land face first on the hallway carpet. He looked so baffled and crestfallen when he got back to his feet that the three of you laughed at him even harder and he turned tail and ran on into the house until he found a door that hadn’t already been kicked in by some other survivor. You heard a crash, boots running across wooden floors, then another crash. Columbus and Little Rock entered after him and fanned out like a well practiced SWAT team to make sure Tallahassee’s display hadn’t awakened anything.

You carried in the bags, pushed the door back into its frame and secured it with the hallway cabinet and, gun at the ready, went to explore the next floor up. Those fools were making a lot of noise down there but you were sure by now that the house was empty. Thanks to their eager bad-ass antics, you had first choice of bedrooms.

Tallahassee came up the stairs once he’d gotten some of the smashing out of his system and he froze in the doorway to the master bedroom, his grin twisting into a mask of utter grief.

“No,” he breathed.

You were sprawled on the king-size bed, arms crossed behind your head, legs stretched out and luxuriating on the soft sheets. With a smile, you made the bed bounce and there wasn’t so much as a squeak of complaint from the springs. Three of you could have fit on the bed without brushing up against each other. “Oh yeah,” you purred. “This house was a great pick, Tallahassee - I can really see us making ourselves at home here.”

The other two finally caught on to what was happening and followed close behind. Little Rock elbowed Tallahassee aside and cursed at you. “Come on! I’m not sleeping on the floor again - Tallahassee, tell her.”

“Oh, wow,” came Columbus’ voice from somewhere down the hall, “this room is so nice! Hm, doilies.”

Little Rock bolted immediately and through the walls you could hear her flinging herself onto the bed in there and shouting “dibs!”

Tallahassee’s face was dark, and he glanced towards where your hand rested on your gun. “I could have you over my shoulder and out of here quicker’n you could get the safety off of that thing, missy.” He drew himself up with injured dignity and pressed a hand to his chest. “But I... am a gentleman. A gentleman with a sore neck and aching muscles and very long limbs.”

You raised your eyebrows and wondered if you could bring him back to the idea of lifting you up bodily. “Yes, that’s what we all call you behind your back. Gentleman.”

He shook his head. “You know, I give you kids everything I have and I get nothin’ but lip in return. I despair of your generation.”

Tallahassee did that a lot, drew attention to his own age and the gap between his and yours. He was welcome to fish for reassurance about his own all he wanted and you usually obliged, but lumping you in with the other two?“Watch who you call a kid. Columbus makes me feel ancient by comparison.”

He looked at you oddly before he smiled. “Figure of speech, sweetheart.” Something made him pause, as if he was weighing up his options. Then he sighed with exaggerated melancholy. “Well... if you won’t take pity on me, I’d better find somewhere else to bunk up.” Tallahassee touched the brim of his hat to you and walked off with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder before you could gather up the nerve to point out the bed was wide enough to fit both of you.

In the end, there were enough bedrooms to go around and then some - this house had obviously belonged to a real old fashioned country family. No one wanted to speculate further than this in any real way, but Little Rock made fun of all the framed photographs she found and amused herself by throwing them out the window, trying to hit the roof of the old abandoned car. Maybe she was working through something.

The other survivor(s) hadn’t stayed here long enough to ruin much. Their footprints had stained some carpets and there were broken egg shells and empty packets of food clogging the kitchen sink, but all of that would have expired by now in any case and in the cabinets there were cans, spices and nonperishables galore. There was also a corpse in the sitting room, but it was the still sort, so you pulled on some long rubber gloves, grabbed the edges of the rug it was lying on and dragged it, half wrapped up like a perversely over-stuffed burrito, slowly out and down the front stairs.

There were a few offers of help, but you wanted to stay busy so you declined, found a bucket and some soap, opened all the windows wide and eventually with a lot of elbow grease and retching, got the worst of the stink and the goo out. Tallahassee kept himself busy and alone in the rest of the house doing something mysterious, Columbus and Little Rock split up to rest a while and came together in the kitchen to cook and after a good few hours of quiet, hard work you felt your stomach rumble as the smell of death was replaced by the (honestly speaking, only barely) preferable smell of food.

It was amazing how quickly the unacceptable became commonplace - if you couldn’t learn to build an appetite with maggots crawling on your hands, you would have starved a long time ago.

When it was all done, the four of you sat down exhausted on the porch to the first hot meal you’d had in ages. The table was covered by an old sheet, there were wild flowers in a jug of water, there were beers to drink and the already empty bottles held flickering candles that picked up some of the slack from the setting sun. Someone, perhaps all three of them, had obviously had a hankering for the domestic and right now it didn’t seem like the sort of thing that any of you wanted to mock.

Tallahassee had gone to work with hammer, nails and whatever wood he could find and had already boarded up most of the windows that could be reached on the first floor. Everything that could and should be done today had been done and there was as much stillness and safety now that there would ever be again. In short, this was exactly the time when at least one person would be gearing up for a breakdown. The silence around the table could be excused while everyone was still ravenous and busy shoving the weird combinations of pickles, spam, noodles and preserves into their mouths but it worried you when things slowed down and there was still no talking. Something had to be done.

“Anyone feel like they’re going nuts?”

Well, that made them sit up. Columbus coughed and Tallahassee froze, fork half way to his open mouth.

Little Rock sighed. “I mean, yeah. Obviously.”

“You ever gone proper camping, like strapped into a heavy rucksack?” You addressed the question to her since she’d made the mistake of replying first.

“Ew, no. I had better things to do than subject myself to ‘nature’.”

Tallahassee kicked her chair under the table and she jolted and gave him the finger.

“Well,” you pressed on. “My point is, when you take the pack off and sit down, that’s when you feel how tired you are. And it’s almost impossible to lift the thing back up again after.”

Silence descended again. No one looked like they disagreed with you or were in doubt of what you were getting at. After a moment, Tallahassee opened another bottle with his teeth, took a drink, belched and said, “that’s a fair point, princess, a good analogy.” There was no knowing whether he meant it or if he was being sarcastic.

“You’re saying we shouldn’t get comfortable here,” said Columbus. He hadn’t looked away from you since you started talking, which was rare for him.

“No... we’ve got plenty of supplies, this place looks safe enough and the propane tank is almost full. I think we need to rest. I’m just worried, if we’re not focusing on moving and surviving...”

“Well, my plan,” Tallahassee said and leaned back in his chair, “and you’re more’n welcome to join me, is to get absolutely, incoherently, pants-shittingly hammered. Ain’t nothing in this world can’t be solved by drinking.”

“Drinking what? Did you find liquor and just... hide it from the rest of us?”

He smiled and trailed his fingers lazily up and down the neck of his beer bottle, and you’d gotten completely off the subject but everyone was talking and ready to strangle Tallahassee, so for the moment at least the crisis was averted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he drawled. “Bet you wish you’d given me the master bedroom now...”

“That’s _such_ a great plan, Tallahassee,” said Little Rock, each word dripping with insincerity and with only lemonade in her glass. “And are you finally going to let me have some? I mean, I can find other ways to let off steam, if you think that’s better. I still say your hat could use some glitter... who knows what I’ll get up to while you’re passed out in a pool of your own vomit.”

Tallahassee drew himself up, puffed out his chest and held on tight to his hat. “I swear to God, you so much as touch this hat and I’ll show you what your own kidneys look like.”

“I’m practically 13! Give me a goddamn beer!”

“Actually, you’ve got almost another three months.” Columbus looked thoughtful. “Wow, I’d better start looking out for some toy stores...”

“Toy stores? Are you deaf? I’m a teenager.”

“Hah!” Tallahassee cackled. “Give me a break - you’re barely out of your diapers. Oughta get you some velcro shoes, I’m sick to death of watching you struggle with your laces.”

Little Rock turned her indignation back on Tallahassee and he welcomed it with open arms.

You’d never articulated this thought to yourself before, but he really did rile people up on purpose and you were beginning to see why. It might very well have started as a way to keep them at arm’s length, but he had another reason now - better they were angry at him than sad. Or numb. As the saying went: don’t mourn, organise against the idiot who hogs the booze and farts on your pillow ‘to remind you of home’. It wasn’t a very nice favor he was doing them but you couldn’t help feeling cheated that he never needled you the same way. It’d at least meant he was giving you some attention.

...Christ, you must be getting desperate indeed if that’s was the sort of attention you were willing to settle for.

“Tallahassee.” Columbus’ voice was soft but firm, and he glanced over at you. “Bring us your stash and pour Little Rock a very small drink.”

“Make me.”

“I don’t have to make you. You’re outnumbered. I favor a nice merlot, myself, but I will settle for whatever you’ve got.”


	6. 6

Tallahassee would never bother with a ‘nice merlot’ as long as there was stronger stuff for him to grab, his logic being that percentage won out over flavor every time and that drinking wine, especially named wine, was ‘fucking gay’. (Everyone had given up on trying to check his casual homophobia, but at least he’d traded some of his stronger terms for well... words that weren’t slurs.)

So what you got, after a lot of sulking, was neat rum in served up in clean glasses and cups, none of which matched the other. Tallahassee shook his head at you when you poured the left-over juice from the canned pineapple into yours and Little Rocks drinks, then groaned with disappointment when Columbus shrugged and followed suit.

Little Rock cheered to adulthood and immediately downed her drink. Because of your stunt with the juice, she wouldn’t be able to tell that it was practically a mocktail.

You stole both Tallahassee’s and Columbus’ line by cheering to alcohol and knocked back what you hoped would be the first glass of many. Tallahassee didn’t stop you from reaching for the bottle.

Columbus cheered to life, instantly embarrassing everyone before he clarified that he was being sarcastic.

Tallahassee cheered to tits and guns and freedom. Things deteriorated after that.

\---

Columbus was waiting for you in the hallway with the mop when you left Little Rock’s room. You shut her door as quietly as you could and looked up at him.

“Is she... going to be okay?” Columbus leaned the mop against the wall and smoothed back his hair. You prayed he’d actually used it and not brought it up for you as a hint.

“Oh yeah. She got it all up and out and I helped her clean herself up. She’ll be right as rain after a night’s sleep.”

Little Rock hadn’t had a bad first go at being drunk. She hadn’t embarrassed herself any worse than hitting Columbus in the nose and admitting to you, in between vomiting, that she’d made out with Michael once behind the bleachers so he’d teach her how to hot wire a car. She’d just assumed you knew who Michael was. Or who Michael had been.

Columbus still looked a little worried and his nose still looked swollen, but he tried to smile. “It was so nice of you to take care of her like that. You’d make a really good mom.”

“...what?”

“No, I mean, you... you’re just... good, you know? Nice. A nice person.”

You could see he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him but you were too tired to help him untangle this one. Columbus shut his eyes tight. Eventually you relented.

“Right. Thank you. Thankfully we’ll never have to find out about the ‘mom’ part.”

He laughed and nodded and you’d never seen anyone make it look less natural.

The tension out here was as thick as glue, worse than could be expected after only a weirdly put compliment, and it worried you because hardly any of this tension was radiating from you.

Columbus was... there was no nicer way to put it, he was getting weirder. You’d avoided speculation and this was not when you wanted to go there - you were still buzzed, everyone had had a chance to unwind (all over the stairs in Little Rock’s case) and while you’d counted on having to help the actual child, you absolutely did not want to babysit anybody else. Or their... feelings.

“Well, um. It was still really nice of you and I was just thinking that maybe you could use some a-... some time to relax, too. I got an old tape player working in the rec room, it just needed new batteries.”

Oh, you could picture it alright, more terrible cocktails, tinny top 40 music from back when cassettes were still a thing and Columbus trying to make out with you against a fuss-ball table. You shuddered and pulled your hoodie tighter around you to pretend it was the draft that was bothering you. He wasn’t a bad guy, he just didn’t know what he was doing, or that you wouldn’t be willing to teach him. God help him if he found out your real preference... he’d have to accept that when you got quiet and stared out the car window, you weren’t, as he’d apparently assumed, wishing for a life of peace and safety, obscure indie rock and rearing apple-cheeked children but instead daydreaming about crawling into the front seat and choking on Tallahassee’s dick while he was still driving.

You’d been wrong. No attention at all would be better than this. You missed being ignored by Tallahassee.

“That... that sounds so nice, Columbus, but I’m completely wrecked. Can we take a rain check?”

Columbus beamed as if that’s just the words he’d hoped to hear. You’d been too nice, you’d made your negative much too ambiguous.

“Rain check, yeah, of course! The rec room isn’t going anywhere. Did you check it out yet? It’s pretty cool, totally retro.”

“I bet it is.” You sighed and rubbed your forehead to sell the excuse. Actually, speak of the devil - now you were really developing a headache. “Seems a shame to let the cocktails go to waste though. Mind if I steal one as a nightcap?”

“Of course not, I made them for you. I’ll bring one up for you.”

You had to squeeze past him to get to your bedroom and you heard him draw in a sharp breath. God damn it. You shut your door behind you, leaned on it and nearly slid to the floor, then pulled yourself together. The door opened inwards so you wedged a chair under the handle and sat down on the bed.

Something was different and you looked around, eager for anything else to think about. It took you a few seconds, then you brushed your hand across the bed again and realised it was made, not rumpled like you’d left it, and the sheets were different.

At first you felt sick. You didn’t want to have to elevate Columbus from misguided softie to genuine creep... but he’d been outside, and then with Little Rock in the kitchen all afternoon and evening. Tallahassee had been the only one upstairs.

You pulled the blanket back and leaned down to sniff the sheets. They were clean, a little musty from disuse... and then you caught a whiff of Tallahassee’s cologne.

He’d made your bed. It made you flush hot, even though you remembered that Little Rock’s bed had been surprisingly fresh, too and knew he’d probably just done over all of them to keep his hands busy.

Still. The sheets smelled a little like him and you quickly pulled the pillow over that spot, lest it faded into the night before Columbus’ return. You should not have asked him to fetch you that drink....

The door rattled and you got back up, got the chair out of the way and exited into the hallway. Columbus hadn’t even knocked. You smiled at him awkwardly and then pretended you only just now realised that blocking the door against him was a little odd. “I can’t go to sleep these days unless I know no one can get in...”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

You took the glass from his hand and left it on a table just inside your room. Columbus wasn’t leaving.

“Thank you, Columbus. That was really nice of you.”

“You know you’re safe, right? Me and Tallahassee, we’ll make sure we’re all safe.”

“Never hurts to be a little paranoid.”

He tried to laugh that off, and you looked down at your hands.

“Well... Goodnight, alright?” Take the hint. Please, take the hint. He was still there. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

Columbus leaned out, gave two awkward finger guns and you couldn’t help laughing even if you were uncomfortable. That was a mistake, because Columbus must have read somewhere that women go for men that make them laugh and he leaned in with one hand on the wall next to your ear and kissed you.

You’d never expected him to just go for it like that... and his other hand was actually on your arm, making it difficult for you to slip away. His breath tasted like pure alcohol. He’d never been a big drinker. You weren’t sober yourself so your reaction time left something to be desired; finally, and it felt like it’d taken an age, you overcame your surprise and pushed him gently but firmly away from you.

“Columbus...” You kept your voice at a whisper because the last thing you wanted was to embarrass him any more than you had to.

“I... that was wrong. Right? I misread you.”

“Yeah. You did.”

He nodded, quickly, head bobbing up and down as if that could dislodge his blush. “It was too soon. I get it. I’m sorry.”

You drew a deep breath. You really hadn’t wanted to have to do this, but now the situation had become too dire for hints. “Columbus, I’m sorry, but it has nothing to do with time. I just don’t think of you that way. And I’m never going to.”

He stared at you. First he looked confused, then almost angry, then lost. “...Why? I mean, why not?”

“Come on, you don’t really want me to answer that.”

“Oh.” He stepped back further and smiled, stiff and proud and this time definitely a little pissed off. “No, I get it. I’m just a skinny nerd, what would you want with me? You should hold out for Mr. Perfect, I’m sure he’s right around the corner.”

As if your taste wasn’t a good enough reason... you drew yourself up a little too. He wouldn’t force you to apologise again, or to give him an explanation that he’d like better. He was drunk and disappointed, sure, but that would only excuse him for so long. “You’re too good a person to want someone who’s just settling for you, or someone who’s with you out of pity.”

“Good guy, that’s me.”

“Don’t start.”

Columbus sucked in a deep breath through his nose and when he exhaled it, his anger left with it. “You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes and added. “I’m so drunk, still... as it turns out, rum is strong stuff.”

But he’d used up all your patience by now so you just nodded and moved back towards your door. “Then go sleep it off. I’ll forget this ever happened as long as you take me at my word and don’t try anything like that again.”

This time, you did slide to the floor when you got back into your room. You sat there for a long time with your arms around your knees and you didn’t cry.

\---

Well, it had happened. It’d finally happened.

The two of you had been much too busy to hear him step out onto the landing, and if you’d heard him go back into his room or shut his door and realised you’d had an audience, it wasn’t his problem.

Tallahassee stared at the bottle in his hand. For a moment he meant to chuck it at the wall, but someone would be bound to come running to chew him out for causing noise. And it was still half full. It’d be a shame to waste it.

He would’ve punched a pillow instead, but that’d never done any good for anybody. He stalked to the window and looked down at the abandoned car - maybe the keys were still in the ignition. He hadn’t had time to unpack his own stuff yet, he could just grab his bag and bail, let these idiots fend for themselves and see how they liked it.

But no, he couldn’t do that, not to Little Rock. That boy must have some well hidden talent for manipulation because he’d known just what to say to make Tallahassee start to think of her almost as if she was his own daughter. And now he’d gotten under your skin, too.

Tallahassee had spun on his heels the instant he saw you two locking lips and he couldn’t get the image of it out of his mind. God fucking damn it, his own room was right next yours. Any minute now he’d have to listen to the headboard bouncing off the wall and the two of you doing your best to keep quiet.

Only light at the end of the tunnel was that there was absolutely no way it’d last long. He snorted. Columbus might as well have ‘adult virgin’ tattooed across his forehead and Tallahassee would eat his own hat if that pipsqueak lasted more than a minute.

That wasn’t much of a positive. Because it’d still mean someone other than Tallahassee was fucking you, holding you... finishing in you. Maybe if the kid was bad enough at it, you’d tire of him eventually. Want something real. Someone who’d know what to do with you...

God, that was a real low thought. Tallahassee took a deep drink, ran his fingers over his face and groaned. Definitely starting to lose it, the old him would never have gotten this twisted up over a woman. Maybe he should take that car for a joyride, find some zombies to cut down and -

Someone knocked on his door. Oh, great.

“Now’s really not the time,” he growled. There was a creak as whoever it was shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Then your voice, soft and quiet, replied with a “please.”

You looked as if you were about to cry. Or like you were pissed off, it was hard to tell sometimes. Tallahassee stared down at you, completely non-plussed, then leaned out of the doorway but there was no one else on the landing. “Uh... yeah. Fine.”

You slipped past him barefoot and he, very gently, closed the door and gestured to the bed, the only piece of furniture in here for you to sit on. As it happened, he gestured with the hand still holding the bottle. Oh well. The floor probably could do with being disinfected. He watched you impassively as you padded over and sat down with a shiver, then held the bottle out to you. You took it, drank, made a face and then settled back down to looking tired and miserable.

“I leave you people alone for five minutes and this is what happens, huh?”

If you’d been a friend or a lover, hell, even a kid, Tallahassee would have known what to do. He’d stroke your chin and lift it up so you would look at him and then he’d pull you close, let you give him your weight and keep still and gentle while you cried or talked out your worries. But you were none of those things. The only thing he could offer without crossing any boundaries was words. Of course, he wasn’t comfortable with that kind of talk and you didn’t really look ready to spill your guts unprovoked.

“Come on,” he managed at last. “Romeo couldn’t have been that bad, could he?”


	7. 7

Just when you’d thought the evening couldn’t have panned out any worse... You stared up at Tallahassee and felt your stomach churn. “You saw that?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I saw that. It ain’t nothing to be ashamed of, darlin. We all got needs.”

You were growing hot already. Surely your embarrassment must be written all over your face. He’d think... “It’s not like that.”

“Oh no?” Tallahassee strolled over to the bed and sat down slouched against the wall, one leg outstretched, one dangling off the edge. It was unfair that he could be so comfortable in himself while you were so miserable. “What’d he do wrong? You might as well go ahead and tell me cuz I’m guessing you won’t be leaving ’til you’ve got everything off your chest.”

“I just...” you couldn’t face him, not now. More than ever it felt as if his eyes could see straight into your head. “I’m just not interested in him. Not in that way.”

You counted three breaths before he spoke again.

“Coulda fooled me.”

Now you had to look at him. He was still smiling faintly, still watching you. It was difficult to make anything out in the gloom - was he waiting for something? Did he know, was he letting you stew in this for his own amusement? And... if you said it out loud, if he forced you to admit it only to reject you... were you really too proud to give him the satisfaction? It’d be over. No more tension, no more doubt, no more hope and uncertainty.

You took another drink and without knowing you’d made up your mind, you heard the words slip past your lips. “Tallahassee, you know how I feel.”

He cleared his throat. “I’m flattered you think I’m so perceptive, but I got no idea how you feel.”

You stared at him, felt your heart beat pounding in your weak hands, watched his smile turn slowly into a look of rapt confusion. The mattress shifted beneath you as he tensed. Your voice sounded cracked. “How could I look at him that way when you’re right here?”

Tallahassee breathed out slowly, sat up, drew a little closer and took the bottle from your hand to place it on the floor. His expression was grim, almost pained. Then he slipped a hand around your neck, squeezed it in a tight grip, pressed his thumb against your jaw until you met his eyes.

“Don’t play with me.”

You whined and parted your lips, sucked in a sharp breath, went soft, all before you could gather your wits. “I wouldn’t... I’m not.”

He looked rough, almost angry. His jaw was stiff and his eyes, searching yours, glancing at your mouth, were narrow and cold. “No?” His thumb stroked your throat, your cheek, then grazed across your lips and pressed against your chin to test you.

You opened up for him and your quick, desperate breaths came out like whimpers. Then finally he kissed you, rough and greedy and graceless with your head still trapped and his stubble scratching up your skin, he groaned into your mouth and gave you only split seconds to catch your breath before he pushed on. Your strength left your body the moment your lips met and it took both your hands pressed weakly to his chest for you to not fall forward in a faint. He was so warm.

Tallahassee let go of you just long enough to shrug out of his jacket and you took the opportunity while his arms were trapped to tug his t-shirt up and run your fingers over his stomach, up to his chest. He moaned. If you’d been more patient and if he’d let you call the shots, you would’ve been sorely tempted to tease and explore him as revenge for all the times he’d left you hanging. But he had you back in his tight embrace in a heartbeat, his rough hands were at your back, he tugged at your clothes, pushed and pulled at you to get you closer. You did your best and your impatience had the two of you working at cross purposes. He tried to grope your ass, you tried to climb into his lap. Tallahassee growled impatiently and slipped off the bed, ran his hands up your legs, then seemed to falter.

“Just how much have you had to drink?”

That made you smile. Perhaps he really was a gentleman, after all. But the thought of him stopping now, even if it only meant waiting another night to have him fuck you...

“Tallahassee,” you whispered and stroked his cheekbone, teased his lips and felt your breath hitch when he groaned and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ve come thinking about you more times than I can count.”

“Fuck me,” he breathed. “Really?”

“Really.”

He slipped his hands up higher, under your skirt, spread his fingers wide to feel as much of you as he could. His uncertainty was fading and he held your gaze, then ran his thumb across the front of your panties and laughed. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. You get any wetter and you could drown a horse. You’re telling me all this is for me?”

You bucked your hips up for more without caring if it betrayed just how desperate he’d made you. “Yes... please, Tallahassee... don’t stall.”

“Oh, you think I’m stalling?” He yanked your panties below your ass and had them off your knees so quick you heard the seams tear. You squeaked and he laughed. “That better?”

Since you couldn’t see much in here, you had to explore by touch instead. When he moved to start on his belt you pushed his hands aside to do it yourself and took the opportunity to feel him up through his jeans. His cock was thick and hot against your hand and you could feel it twitching even through the denim... Tallahassee might be caught up in the moment, but not so much that he couldn’t grin down at you and raise his eyebrows, smug as ever. He knew he’d impress and you gratified him with a slack jawed whimper. You worked at his belt and undid his fly with renewed urgency, pulled the fabric down just enough to be able to lift out his cock.

God, he looked gorgeous, so thick and long it had trouble standing up even though he was completely hard under your touch. Of course he wasn’t wearing boxers, that just wouldn’t have fit his brand.

He gave you enough time to wrap your hand around him and stroke him once before he grew too impatient, got on top of you again, pulled you down so your head fell back against the blankets and your ass edged off the bed. He leaned in close and pressed hard kisses to your throat and slipped a hand down to hike up your skirt and tease your cunt - by now you were soaking his sheets and he pushed two fingers into you with a slick, wet noise that might have embarrassed you if you’d had the attention to spare.

“Oh, god!” you whined, pushed up against his touch and held on to his shoulders for dear life. Finally, some friction, finally something filling you, stretching you.

“Christ, you’re hungry for it.” As low as his voice was, you could still hear a tremble in it. There was no mistaking it - he was as desperate for this as you were. How long had he wanted this? Why hadn’t he pounced sooner? Had he really not spotted how affected you were whenever he was near? Well, you had to make up for it now.

You kissed him back clumsily, cried out when he curled his fingers, felt goosebumps all over when his stubble raked over your skin. It wasn’t enough, not for either of you. His cock pressed against your thigh, hot and sticky with precum, and you reached down, took it in your hand and guided him into you.

“Fuck...” Tallahassee groaned and leaned his forehead against yours, breathed deep and slow to regain his composure. Inch by inch he let himself sink deeper into your cunt until the head of his dick pushed against your cervix and he felt you tense. You wrapped your shaking legs around his waist to keep him there on top of you and you moaned and shook by his ear. It had been so long... so long. Clearly he was in the same situation because his breathing was already ragged and hot and he kept his movements slow as he drew his hips back and finally began to fuck you. His weight was on his elbows and his feet, he fucked with his entire body, making up for a slow pace with hard, long strokes.

Tallahassee recovered beautifully, opened his eyes again and turned his attention back to you, to kissing your neck, your ear, touching your face and burying his fingers in your hair. “You’re so tight, sweetheart... fuck, you feel good around me.”

“Please,” you breathed and tried to pull him closer with legs and arms, so desperate for more that you didn’t notice at first how you were trapping him. “Please, Tallahassee...”

“Shh, I got what you need.” And he gave it to you with a hard enough thrust that the bed slid across the floor with a pained screech and slammed into the wall. You squealed and laughed and held on to him but he seemed too far gone to care who heard it. He was panting, pawing at you, sighing against your ear and each time you ran your hands over his back or pressed a clumsy kiss to his shoulder he shivered. “So fucking good...” he mumbled, shut his eyes tight and pulled one of your legs up to press your knee to your chest as if he couldn’t get deep enough into you.

“You, too,” you breathed back. Every time he pushed his cock back in you felt yourself clench and squeeze around him, trying to keep him inside you. “God, please, promise you’ll fuck me like this again.”

Tallahassee made a pained noise and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. “Oh, every night, sweetheart. You kidding me? I’ll fuck you very chance I get...”

He was trying to hold back, you could tell. There was nothing of his usual playfulness left, none of his careless confidence - he was just desperate, slamming into you again and again as if his life depended on it, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to shut you up so your words didn’t send him over the edge already. It’d been that long... or maybe he really wanted you that badly. And you pictured him coming, buried to the hilt, balls twitching against your ass, shooting his come into you and moaning your name... and you didn’t want him to hold back, the idea of it turned you on so badly. You wanted him desperate even if it cut this short.

“Tallahassee, your dick just feels so good in me,” you whined and shivered with pleasure when you heard him gasp as if you’d punched him in the gut. “So much better than I imagined it...”

“Uh-huh,” he managed and wrapped his arms around you, raked his stubble against your shoulder and kissed your neck hard enough to bruise. “And you’re perfect...”

You couldn’t help but laugh - for the first time, something besides rage had rendered him practically speechless and without his cool. At least tonight, he was all yours. The way he clung to you, the way he moaned your name, the way he fucked you as if he was punishing you... you wanted more of it, all of it. “Promise me you’ll always fuck me raw like this...”

Tallahassee leaned out to stare you in the eye and his own were wild and searching and hungry. “Oh, you want me to come in you?” He reached up to grab your hair, pulled it back, made you arch your spine and bare yourself to him, dared you to take it back.

“Fuck...” He might not be in complete control for once, but that look in his eye, the way he leaned back and rolled his hips to push up against the wall of your cunt at just the right angle proved he wouldn’t hand the reigns over to you without a fight. You looked up at him, licked your lips, pleading. “Yeah, Tallahassee, I want-I want you to come in me...”

“Keep talking like that and I will,” he growled and a grin tugged at his lips when he saw how his words made you shiver. “I’ll pump you so full of it it’ll drip all the way down to your knees.”

“Oh...!” There was no backing down now. His thrusts were getting faster, almost losing their rhythm - either way, this perfect moment would end. You watched him and moaned, took in everything you could in this dim light, his gorgeous, weird face flushed and tense with need, his rough hands on you, his scent surrounding you and filling you with each breath. “Please, come in me... god, I’ve been dreaming about it. I just want to take it for you...”

“You take it so good, darling. Fuck, I won’t be able to hold back...”

You pulled him down again and wrapped your legs even tighter around his waist, dug your heels into his ass cheeks so he couldn’t withdraw an inch and you would have egged him on but there was no need - he groaned and cursed loud enough by your ear to hurt and you felt his dick jump and twitch and pulse in you, felt your insides get hot and full, felt his balls tense against your skin and his shoulders shake.

The two of you just lay there panting for a moment and you wanted to stay in it forever, in pleasure and a good kind of pain, mind blank and without worries. Tallahassee kissed your neck and slowly, slowly started to relax - which meant his weight was on you and you had to croak and shove him to get him to pull out and roll off. He slurred something that might have been “sorry” and dropped himself gracelessly onto the bed. As soon as he’d left you you felt his come and your wetness trickle out and you moaned and grabbed his blanket to dry yourself off as best you could.

You sat up awkwardly and looked over at him. Your left hip complained - you must have strained to give him room. Tallahassee was starting to catch his breath now and predictably he seemed incoherent and ready to pass out. He did manage to smile at you and you returned it.

“C’mere.” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards him. There might have been things you wanted to say to him, but there seemed to be no need for them now. Instead you stood on shaky legs and pulled off your clothes with as much grace as you could muster. He watched with silent, smug interest and made a noise almost like a purr.“C’mere,” he repeated and did the same motion with his fingers.

“Patience,” you replied and he raised his eyebrows.

“‘ve we met?”

His bed was narrow and old and once again you wished you hadn’t kept him out of yours. But he made room between himself and the wall and pinned you there as soon as you climbed in, with both arms around you and his body pressed to yours. Your cunt was still hungry and wet and every touch from him made you sigh and long for round two, but Tallahassee was clearly spent and not apologising for it - apart from stroking your stomach and nuzzling his nose into your hair he was no use to you now. If you had known him longer or cared less you might have slipped your fingers in between your thighs to finish yourself off yourself, but now it didn’t feel right. Instead you lay awake a few moments longer than him, pondering every weird turn your life had had to take for you to end up here. It hadn’t averaged out into the positives lately, but if he kept fucking you like that and holding you the way he did now, with his strong arms and wide, warm chest shielding you from everything besides his bullshit... things might be looking up. You took a deep breath, shivered, stroked his wrist to keep it close to your heart and slowly settled in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! hope it was worth the wait ^^ please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress but pretty much completed. I might go back and change or add things, but there's little risk of this fic being slow to update. Comments and encouragement means so much to me so if you have the time, write a line and let me know what you might want to see more of.  
For now the fic is not completely linear, at least not at the start.


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